


12 Days of Abel

by FiveNeedsANap



Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: F/F, F/M, Female Runner Five, Holidays, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:42:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 10,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28305513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FiveNeedsANap/pseuds/FiveNeedsANap
Summary: Snapshots of holiday life in Abel through the years from the POV of 12 characters who aren't my Five. 12 days, 12 installments. Part writing exercise, part holiday cheer, all love for my Abel babes.Spoilers through season six, each chapter is marked. Tags and characters will be updated as I add chapters.
Relationships: Janine De Luca/Peter Lynne, Paula Cohen/Maxine Myers, Runner Five/Sam Yao, Tom De Luca/Jody Marsh
Comments: 26
Kudos: 24





	1. Paula

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers through the end of season 2.
> 
> Following Maxine's disappearance, Paula thinks she's spending her first holiday season in Abel alone. Her friends have other plans.

Paula Cohen had always loved the holidays.

She didn’t just mean the eight nights she spent with her family, cozy by Menorah light. She loved the entire season – the decorations, the music, the traditions, the common spirit shared by people of so many backgrounds. It’s why she loved the phrase “Happy Holidays,” an acknowledgement of the overarching joy and celebration.

Yes, Paula had always loved the holidays.

But that was before.

The December just before the outbreak, Hanukkah done and Christmas just days away, she and Maxine had opted to spend a quiet holiday at home, just the two of them. Paula had been stuck late at the lab on Christmas Eve – Van Ark never was one to let cheer stand in the way of progress – and promised Maxine she’d be home as soon as she could.

She’d never come home.

Last year was somehow worse. She was still stuck in a lab, but now the world was gone, she was half zom, and Maxine? She didn’t even know if Maxine was alive.

This year was supposed to be different. She’d already found herself thinking up the holiday season they’d share that November night they were reunited at Abel. But then Maxine had disappeared.

She pulled her coat more tightly around her against the chill of the night as she walked towards the hospital. It was well past curfew, but she couldn’t sleep. Her half-zom state didn’t require much rest anyway, and tonight she was just too sad.

As she got closer to the hospital, she noticed a light on. _Probably that woman from New Canton_ , she thought with a scowl. She understood why it had been necessary to call in Dr. Lobatse; Paula herself couldn’t see patients, and they needed a full-time doctor on call. But she didn’t have to like it.

She stepped inside, defenses up, ready to fend off the attack of this woman’s relentless quest to bond with her, but was greeted by something else.

“Wait, I thought we said this one went here?”

“No, no, we nixed that idea, remember? Because _that_ has to go _here_ , so this has to be here.”

It was Sam and Runner Five, heads together, bent over a small table, conspiring.

“What are you doing here?”

They both jumped, and Sam threw his body over the myriad papers on the table. “What? We…uh…nothing. Just…nothing.” He was a terrible liar.

“So you’re just sitting in the hospital after curfew for no apparent reason?”

She could see his wheels turning, trying to come up with something plausible. “It’s…well, it’s a secret, and it’s none of your business, so –”

“Hang on, Sam,” Five said, laying a hand on his arm. “I think we can trust her.”

“You sure?”

Five nodded. “Maxine trusts her. We can too. Besides, this has ceased to be a two-person job. We need her.”

“Well…alright.” Sam stood up slowly, and Paula got a look at what he’d been guarding. One set of papers was some kind of hand-written spreadsheet with the names of everyone in Abel. Next to each was a number. The other had a list of objects, also numbered.

“Wait…are these gifts?”

Sam nodded. “Yep! Been working on this for weeks. After how…well, awful the past few months have been we figured everyone could use some holiday cheer. It was Five’s idea,” he said, smiling at her.

“This is…this is actually incredible. You really have gifts for everyone in town?”

“We do!” Five replied. “They’re not all great – some people are getting like, bars of soap and new toothbrushes, but we figured it’s better than nothing.”

Paula was amazed. She hadn’t known Sam or Five long, but she could see why Maxine liked them so much. “That doesn’t explain what you’re doing in the hospital.”

“Ah!” Five leapt to her feet. “That’s because…” she pulled back a curtain on a bay to reveal a mountain of gifts wrapped in a variety of materials. “We’ve been stashing everything here. There isn’t enough room in the dorms or the comms shack.”

“Everything’s wrapped, we were just doing a last minute check on our lists. Checking them twice, if you will.” Five elbowed Sam for his terrible joke.

“So now what?” Paula asked.

“Now,” Five said, grabbing bags from under the table, “We get to play Santa. And we could use some extra hands. Care to join us?”

That sounded like a whole lot more fun than what Paula had planned – which was sit at Maxine’s desk and stare at the things that reminded her of her vanished partner.

The trio loaded up the bags and headed out into the night.

\- - - - - - -

“Woah, what’s this?”

“Where’d this come from?”

“Six, was this you?”

Paula woke to the sounds of her fellow runners opening gifts, their recently asleep voices morphing into joyful shouts. She had actually slept well after their holiday-themed escapades. She wrapped a sweater around her shoulders and stepped into the common area.

Wrapping paper littered the floor. The joy on everyone’s face was infectious.

“Paula!” Jody called, “We all got presents! Look, size six knitting needles! I don’t have these yet!” Jody was cradling her gift appreciatively. “What about you?”

Paula opened the gift they’d left by her door last night. A thick pair of socks. She’d mentioned to Five offhand how cold her feet got at night. She couldn’t believe she remembered.

Sam and Five joined the revelry across the room from her, each holding gifts of their own. The three of them exchanged a knowing smile.

This was far from the holiday Paula had wanted. But for the first time in three holidays, she felt the old spirit of the season. This moment was a happy one. That was enough for now.


	2. Peter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers through the end of season 5. Beginning loosely inspired by an episode of New Girl.
> 
> Abel celebrates its first holiday season after its liberation from Ministry control, but things aren’t right without Janine, especially for one recently-returned resident.
> 
> OR
> 
> Peter is the most dramatic person left in the post-apocalyptic world, and I am fully indulging him.

The holiday spirit hadn’t quite come to Abel this year. Sure, there were decorations and plans for gift exchanges, and Sam could always be counted on for a Christmas carol or two piped through the loudspeakers, but things didn’t feel the same.

In past years, there’d been a lightness to everyone, a sense of wonder pervading the spirit of even the township’s more jaded residents. Janine herself could be seen on occasion hanging decorations (or more likely correcting the decorations of others), indulging in the rare reprieve the season brought from post-apocalyptic life.

That right there was the problem.

It was the first holiday season since Ian Golightly had been deposed and Abel had been freed from Ministry control, allowing its scattered residents to return. The holidays should’ve brought unbridled joy, but not everyone had come home. Janine was still gone, off on a yet-unknown undercover mission. Everyone in Abel felt her absence in everything, and no one felt it more than Peter.

_“I wish I had a river I could skate away on…”_

“Oh Joni, you melancholy minx,” he muttered to the Walkman, “You just get me.”

There was a knock at the door. He groaned into his pillow as a response.

_“I wish I had a river so long…”_

Another knock. Another groan.

_“I would teach my feet to fly…”_

“Peter, it’s me.” It was Five’s voice.

“It’s open,” he called, barely audible against the bedding. He’d been face down on his bed for hours now, and he wasn’t about to get up now. He felt the bed shift as she sat down.

“Hey buddy. How we doing?” He groaned again. “Yeah, I thought as much. You wanna turn the music off so we can talk?”

“The music is a reflection of my soul. Joni’s the only one who understands me.”

Five sighed. “Yeah, that’s actually part of why I’m here. The other runners have been complaining.”

“About my music?”

“More about the fact that you’ve been listening to this particular song for three hours now…”

“Well I’m not changing it. You’re the one who’s always encouraging me to feel my feelings.”

“And I stand by that! I just think that maybe not everyone needs to feel your feelings along with you. And while I love a good Joni Mitchell song as much as anyone, maybe it’d be a more constructive outlet if you felt your feelings by turning that off and talking about them?”

Peter sat up, hair standing on end, but he didn’t touch the Walkman. “It’s just been such a hard few weeks,” he sighed.

“I know.”

“We’re finally home! We finally took Abel back! But now Jenny’s gone.”

“Yeah, I miss her too.”

“There’s just so much I want to say, and I don’t know when I’ll get the chance.”

“I think we could talk better without –”

“I found my way back to her and lost her just as quickly.”

“Peter, the music –”

“And now it’s the holidays, and Jenny always loved the holidays. Or tolerated them, anyway.”

“Peter.”

“Nothing is right without her here –”

“PETER.” He turned to Five, who looked far less patient than she had a moment ago. “Turn the song off, man.”

He tried to stare her down and failed. Very few people could win that particular battle against Five. “ _Fine_ ,” he said, sighing dramatically. He turned the Walkman off. A grateful shout went up among the runners outside his room.

Five hit the wall a couple of times. “Alright, y’all, I did what you asked, leave him alone.”

“Great. Now I have to be alone with my thoughts.”

Five stood up. “You don’t have to be alone, dummy. That’s the other reason I’m here. Maxine found a box of decorations for the hospital, and we’re going to put them up as soon as Sam’s done with the last run of the day. You should join us.”

“I don’t know, Five, maybe I should just stay here…”

“Peter. Please don’t make me give you an order. Because as your Head of Runners, I could do that. But I’d rather just invite you as your friend.”

He sighed yet again. “Oh, you’re probably right. I could probably do with some social interaction.” He stood up and stretched. “When do you think Sam’ll be done?”

“Shouldn’t be more than an hour. But first…” She picked up the Walkman. “I’m confiscating this. Just for now. And I got Jody to sign off on some extra hot water for you. Please take a shower.”

Peter tentatively sniffed himself. “Oh god.” She was right about that too.

\- - - - - - -

On his way to the hospital, Peter found commotion by the gates. As he got closer he could see his friends gathered around three packages: two large duffel bags and something smaller.

“What’s going on?”

“Paula and I just got back,” Jody said. “We were running to a supply drop the Laundry left for us. We were expecting the two bags, but not the box.”

“So…” Sam started, “Should we open it?”

“We don’t know what’s in it, Sam.” Paula replied.

“Yeah, well, we’re not gonna know unless we open it.”

Jody shook her head. “It could be a trap, though. I mean, how better to ambush us than at a planned supply drop?”

“You think the Laundry’s turned?” Maxine asked.

“Nah,” Five replied. “Ellie would’ve found a way to contact us. She arranged this drop herself.”

“So then someone else knew about this drop and left us something? The Exmoors maybe?”

“They’re not that generous.”

“Alright, so what, someone’s gotten into our comms? I mean, how else could someone know about a supply drop?” Sam asked.

Peter stared at the box. It was taped very carefully. “How indeed…” he muttered, something occurring to him. “We should open it."

“We can’t open it! We don’t know what’s inside!” Jody said.

“So what then? You want to put it through a metal detector? Take some x-rays? Call in some sniffer dogs to check it out? It’s not like it’s ticking, Jodes.”

“I don’t know, Peter, I think Jody’s right,” Five replied. “We have a lot of enemies. Maybe we should take it to the lab, open it in a more controlled environment."

“Oh for god’s sake,” he said, picking up the package. “I’ll open it. Not like whatever it is can kill me.”

The group protested as he ripped through the tape. Maxine stepped back, Sam covered his ears, Five’s hand even went to her gun. “Huh,” he said, looking inside.

“What is it?” Jody asked.

“I…I think they’re gifts.” He set the box down so everyone could see. Inside were a variety of objects, unwrapped, but tied with red and green ribbon. “I mean, a tiny winter jacket? That must be for baby Sara,” he said, handing it to Paula and Maxine.

Jody grabbed a ball of yarn. “Oh! I’ve been looking for this stuff, it’ll make really warm scarves!”

“And these cables!” Sam exclaimed. “They’re a perfect replacement for the ones that something chewed on in the comms shack.”

The group kept digging, finding useful objects that clearly matched particular residents. “Who do you think left this?” Paula asked. “Kefilwe maybe?”

“Nah, these things are too practical. And Kefilwe would’ve left a card or something,” Sam said, peering at the cables. “You guys don’t think…”

“That there’s only one person in the world who’d remember I need a new pair of compression socks but have a very hard time finding any small enough for me?” Five replied, looking at her gift with a laugh. “Yeah, Sam. I do think.”

Peter had to walk away. He hadn’t gotten anything. Each object was obviously meant for someone who wasn’t him. There was even a jeweled hairpin that doubled as a lockpick, clearly meant for Amelia.

_Amelia_ had gotten a gift, but he didn’t?

“Hey,” Peter turned towards Five’s voice just in time to catch the small parcel she tossed his way. “This one has your name on it.”

He squinted in the dim light. Sure enough, _Mr. Lynne_ was scrawled in all-too-familiar handwriting. Peter looked out past Abel’s gates and smiled.

“Merry Christmas, Jenny.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I want for Christmas is for Janine and Peter to be happy. Thanks for reading!


	3. Amelia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers through season six.
> 
> Amelia Spens has no use for holiday togetherness and is perfectly happy to spend Christmas night on her own, thank you very much. No, she is not lying, whatever do you mean?

Amelia slipped further into the lather, warm bathwater enveloping her.

A proper bath in a copper-lined tub. Now that was how you thank someone for their service. None of this “satisfaction at a job well done” or whatever it was the do-gooders at Abel were always going on about. Material things, something tangible, that’s how you showed appreciation.

She took a sip from the wine glass she’d set on the table next to her. Wine, music, candles, top-of-the-line bath products (for the apocalypse, anyway); it was the perfect way to spend Christmas night.

The residents of New Canton were enjoying a very happy holiday indeed, all thanks to her. She’d been told time and time again that things here had never run more smoothly, supplies had never been more plentiful. She was hardly surprised. She’d always had a knack for leadership, and she hated waste. Efficiency was key. It kept things running properly and kept people out of her hair.

Yes, New Cantonites were free this year to enjoy a holiday on their own terms, no bureaucracy, no pointless meetings, no forced camaraderie. She’d done well. Gather in the great hall for Christmas dinner or enjoy it in your own quarters, it was all the same to her.

Amelia had opted for the latter option; one of her assistants had brought her dinner along with an assurance she wouldn’t be bothered for the rest of night. That suited her quite well. As a young girl, she’d learnt quickly to release her expectations of the holiday season; reality never lived up. Wine and bubbles and a silk robe were the way to go. No one to bother her, no obligations to anyone.

No doubt the absolute antithesis of what was happening in Abel right about now.

One could always count on Abel to make a fuss where there needn’t be one. Dozens of residents were probably shoulder to shoulder in the drafty cafeteria at this very moment, enjoying a meal they’d certainly prepared together, a low buzz of excitement over gifts throughout the room. There were likely trees and garlands and lights and baubles, all mismatched and uncoordinated, offending the eyes at every turn. Who needed a color scheme when you had holiday cheer?

Amelia shuddered.

And of course, it was Janine’s first holiday back in Abel since the Ministry had seized control. Certainly that took the celebrations up several notches. Peter was probably beside himself to find a gift befitting the woman he’d betrayed and rediscovered and was desperate to come home to. Sam likely had carols piped through the audio system at all hours. Five, for all her bravado in the field, was as bleeding heart as any of them. No doubt she had something special in mind to mark her friend’s first holiday back. A gift exchange, a festive meal, their little found family gathered around the farmhouse fireplace, cheeks bright with friendship and wine from the cellar.

What a nightmare.

No doubt she would’ve been welcomed, if begrudgingly, to their celebration, but where would that have gotten her? Stuck finding a gift for someone she didn’t really like, eating something too heavy for her system, furious when one of those clumsy oafs spilled wine on her cashmere jumper? Cozy by the fire, enfolded by tradition and warmth, surrounded by laughter and joy from people who truly loved each other, who could maybe love her if she gave them the chance?

She took another sip of wine. No, Amelia was perfectly happy without any of that.

Wasn’t she?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have such mixed feelings about Amelia, and I hope they came through here. She is so much fun to write. Thanks for reading!


	4. Jody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers through the end of season 5.
> 
> Jody tries to do something special for Tom's first Christmas in Abel and goes overboard.

“No, no, no, please don’t do that!” Jody implored a pot of potatoes from across the room as it boiled over; she dropped the carrots she was peeling and raced over to blow the foam away.

A simple Christmas meal. That’s all she’d wanted. Instead she’d gone way overboard in Janine’s fully-outfitted kitchen. Beyond the offices, Jody didn’t use the farmhouse much. Acting Commander of Abel Township or not, it felt like an invasion of her absent friend’s privacy. Today, however, she decided the kitchen was ok. Cooking in her own space instead of the crowded Abel kitchens would certainly make the meal more remarkable, she’d figured. Instead, it was her downfall.

“Hey, Jode?” Five called from outside the room. “I need you to sign off on the runner schedule; I know we’re giving everyone the next couple of days off for the holidays, I just wanted to get a jump on – woah.” She stopped, taking in the mess in the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

Jody sat on the floor, slumped against the cabinets. “Trying and failing to cook a nice Christmas Eve meal.”

Five took in the overflowing pots, the flour strewn across the counters, the vague tendrils of smoke starting to fill the air. “Jody…you know we’re all cooking tomorrow’s meal together, right? You and me and Maxine and Peter, everyone who knows what they’re doing in the kitchen, plus Sam for some reason? This seems like overkill.”

“It’s not for tomorrow,” she replied. “It’s for tonight.” She groaned. “It’s Tom’s first Christmas with an actual home in years. I wanted to do something for him, especially with Janine being gone.”

Five, who was switching off burners and fanning potato foam nodded.

“I even traded for a little bird to roast, but look at it!” Five opened the oven. “That half’s burnt, that half’s still raw, and the whole oven’s filled with smoke. I think I bit off more than I can chew.”

“Oh, Jody, I don’t think you should be chewing any of this.”

Jody whipped a dish towel at Five, who dodged it, laughing. “That is not helpful, Five! God, that’s the kind of joke Sam would make.”

“Jody,” Five said, cleaning carrot peels off the floor, “This is a very sweet idea, but I highly doubt Tom would want you making yourself crazy over it.” She stopped. “What’s this orange puddle here?”

“It was supposed to be a pie.”

“Huh. Well, you want some help cleaning up?”

She shook her head. “No. I got myself into this mess, I can get myself out.”

“Then…do you want me to go get Tom?”

“No!” She insisted. Then: “…maybe.”

“Ok,” Five said, handing her the papers she’d come in with. “I will leave this schedule with you and go find him.” She patted Jody’s shoulder and left.

Jody stayed miserably on the floor for the next few minutes until she heard Tom.

“Jody?”

“I’m down here,” she called, blocked by the kitchen island.

“Five told me what you were up to. Are you alright?” He sat down next to her.

Her eyes welled up. “I just wanted your first Christmas in Abel to be special! After everything you’ve been through, and everything we’ve been through, I thought if I did something really nice we could pretend everything was ok, even just for one night.”

Tom chuckled softly. “Oh Jody,” he said, putting his arm around her shoulders, “Has it ever occurred to you that getting to spend Christmas with you is special all on its own?”

She sniffled. “You’re just saying that.”

“I am not. The fact that I get to be here, with you, safe and cared for? That’s about all a man could ask for. And it’s certainly more than I thought I’d ever get.”

Jody put her head on Tom’s shoulder. “But you deserve something really good.”

“And I have it. She’s right here.”

“You’re sure?”

He pressed a kiss into her hair. “Positive.”

They sat for a moment, content just to have each other’s company in the ruined kitchen.

“We’d better get this cleaned up,” Tom said then. “Janie will kill you if you stain her grout.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every time someone refers to Janine by a nickname, my heart grows three sizes (though it does shrink again every time Amelia hits on Sam).


	5. Sam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers through the end of season 3.
> 
> Sam and Five put together the perfect Christmas gift for pregnant Maxine.

“Sam, you have that inside out. Do you see the seam?”

“Huh?” Sam dug through the white fabric in his hands. “What seam?”

“Right…here.” Five said, taking the corner from him. “See?”

“Oh. There it is.” He heaved the mattress topper onto the bed to join the percale sheets and maternity pillow. “How’d you even get all of this back to Abel?"

Five shrugged. “Very carefully and in multiple trips. Plus, the pillow was compressed.”

The bundle of bedding comprised part of Maxine’s Christmas gift. She was into her second trimester now, and the first had been rough – morning sickness, food aversions, fatigue, and lots of insomnia. He and Five had brainstormed the perfect gift set for her: the bedding, slippers, shea butter, and lavender aromatherapy spray.

The pair pored over maps of supply sites to narrow down where they might find what they wanted. Five, who was still technically on furlough following the Comansys Tower, had made several supply runs to gather all of this stuff. She’d gotten special dispensation from Janine while the others had their hands full distracting Maxine from the fact that a non-medically-cleared runner was in the field. It was a pipe dream of a list, but somehow she’d found it all, stashing what she couldn’t carry and returning for it later.

Sam wasn’t sure what to expect from his girlfriend while he had a baby with his best friend and _her_ girlfriend, but so far she’d been nothing but supportive. He’d never been more sure of why he loved her.

“Alright, Paula said she could keep Maxine away for about half an hour, but she couldn’t promise more. We have to get this done and get out.” Five started unfolding the sheets. The plan was to get everything set up and leave in time for Maxine’s afternoon nap, which had become a necessity in the past couple of months. She’d figure out who’d done it quickly, but they wanted her to have time to enjoy her gift before their formal exchange.

“I still can’t believe you found all this stuff,” Sam said, tucking the pillow top corner under the mattress. “Are you secretly a Christmas elf?”

“Is that a joke about my height?”

“Literally always.” She threw a pillowcase at his head.

“Seriously though. This is incredible. You’re incredible.”

They tucked in the top sheet. “I’m just trying to preempt the evil stepmom vibes as early as possible.”

“Hey,” Sam said, taking her hand. “You’re going to be a great stepmom. You know that, right?”

Five shrugged and went back to making the bed.

“I mean it. What you did for Maxine, for the baby, _my_ baby? That’s a parent’s love right there.”

She wrinkled her nose. “You think so?”

“I know so. Besides, this baby is going to be half me and half Maxine, you two aren’t really going to have a choice but to love each other.”

Five smoothed the duvet. “You’re probably right. Here, help me with the pillows.”

They hoisted them onto the bed, arranging the maternity pillow last. Five flopped backwards into its embrace.

“Holy shit, Sam, this is so comfortable. Seriously, I think this is the best Christmas gift ever.”

Sam tentatively laid down next to her. “Oh my god, yeah, this stuff is great,” he said, relaxing into the fabric. “Maxine’s going to love it. We did good, my love."

She touched his cheek. “We really did.” She closed her eyes. “How long have we been here?”

Sam checked his watch. “Ummm…twenty-ish minutes?”

“Perfect. That gives me, like, five to just lay here.”

“If you’re that tired, shouldn’t we just go back to our own quarters? I mean, the plan was get in and get out.”

She waved him off, eyes still closed. “Ehh. You know how much I ran to get all of this stuff? Maxine wouldn’t mind. Also…I don’t feel like moving.”

Sam laughed, snuggling closer to her. “Whatever you say.”

\- - - - - - -

“Paula, come look at this.”

Paula joined her girlfriend in the doorway of their quarters. Sam, all six feet of him, was curled up on his side with the maternity pillow. Tiny Five was starfished next to him, taking up significantly more space. Her face was turned towards Sam’s so their foreheads were pressed together.

“Oh no,” she said with a laugh. “They were supposed to set this up and leave so you could enjoy it. It’s your Christmas present.”

The flash from Maxine’s polaroid went off as she snapped a picture of their friends. “Are you kidding?” she asked, taking the picture that printed. “This right here’s my present too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one ships 5am harder than Maxine Myers, and you cannot change my mind.


	6. Maxine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers through the end of season 5.
> 
> The first night of Sara's first Hanukkah, Maxine reflects on her family.

Maxine was pretty sure no child in history had experienced a first holiday season quite like her daughter. Between Christmas, Hanukkah, and the sheer relief of being back in Abel, Sara’s parents were bursting with enthusiasm. She and Paula had sat down with Sam and Five not a week after taking the township back to plan the celebrations; it was a welcome distraction from Janine’s absence and Sam’s new crop of nightmares.

Together, they made a list of their favorite holiday traditions – decorating the tree, lighting the menorah, cookies, latkes, any and every holiday movie they could possibly find, anything they wanted to be sure to pass on to Sara. They had agreed to keep holiday gifts minimal this year with the tacit agreement that the baby was excluded from that. Maxine was pretty sure Sam alone had dug up at least six for his daughter.

It was the first night of Hanukkah. For most of Abel, the night would pass without fanfare, the bulk of the revelry saved for Christmas. For Maxine and company, it was the time they got to spend together, just the five of them, before celebrations extended to the rest of their group.

Maxine watched as Paula and Five helped Sara light the first candle. Paula had the girl balanced on her hip with Five’s arm wound around them both. Sara’s chubby baby fist gripped the lit shamash, Paula and Five’s hands holding it tight to guide her. The fire bathed their faces in a warm glow, Paula reverent, Five joyful, Sara entranced.

Sam wrapped an arm around Maxine’s shoulders. “Look at our girls.”

She was looking. “I know. It’s beautiful. Two months ago we thought we were going to have to do this underground.”

Candle lit, Paula quietly praised her daughter’s work. Five kissed her curly head. Sara grinned, clumsily clapping her tiny hands.

“Can you believe she wasn’t sure she could be a stepmom?” he asked. “Now she adores that kid. And Sara loves her.”

“Seriously, she imprinted like a baby duck.” Maxine put her head on his shoulder. “I can’t believe it took me this long to want a child with Paula. Although you were worth waiting for. And so was Five.”

“Aw, come on, Max, you’re gonna make me cry.”

She elbowed him. “Everything makes you cry, Sam.”

“Hey! Not everything. Just most things.” He paused for a moment, thoughtful. “I hear you, though. Who knew it would take the literal zombie apocalypse to find the family I always wanted?”

“Ok, now who’s making who cry?”

Sam laughed then winced, still healing from whatever Ian had done to him. Maxine wasn’t actually sure; he wouldn’t talk about it. Five had been the one to patch him up that day. He rubbed the sore spot on his ribs.

“You ok?”

“Fine, Maxine. Don’t worry about it.” She kept staring at him. “Ok, not fine, no one’s fine, but _tonight_ I’m fine.”

Maxine didn’t buy it; she knew him far too well by now. The circles under his eyes, his sudden jumpiness, the way his orange hoodie was starting to wear him? He was not fine, not really, but she didn’t press the issue.

“Alright, everyone!” Five called. “The menorah is lit. Now, for the real reason we’re all here: Paula’s latkes.”

Paula laughed. “Your wish is my command, love.”

Maxine took Sara while her partner busied herself with the food. Five slipped an arm around Sam’s waist, laying her hand over the same spot on his ribs. She gave him a soft look, an unspoken question. He shook his head, just barely, before kissing her forehead.

Maxine hadn’t been sure until that moment that Five had caught their exchange from across the room, but she assumed the answer was yes. It’s exactly why she hadn’t continued to prod Sam; Five would take care of him. She always did.

“Dinner is served, my loves!” Paula announced, carrying dishes into the room. They piled food onto their plates and sat down for their meal, talking and laughing and trying to avoid the splash zone of Sara’s applesauce.

For the first time in she wasn’t sure how long, Maxine felt a wave of peace wash through her. There were still challenges ahead. She knew this season wouldn’t last. But for tonight, the people she loved most were safe and happy and together. For tonight, there was joy.


	7. Kefilwe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers through the very beginning of season 3.
> 
> After a hard year, the residents of Abel Township look for good luck rituals on New Year's Eve, and Kefilwe is happy to share the traditions she's picked up in her travels.

“Maxie and I spent one New Year’s in Denmark. They break plates on their friends’ doorsteps to ward off bad luck. Think we could steal a few from the kitchens?”

Five snorted. “Only if we clean them up immediately so Janine doesn’t see. I don’t know about y’all, but starting the next year with a lecture about wasting supplies and/or the dangers of broken glass isn’t my idea of fun.”

It was the morning of New Year’s Eve. The two women were sitting with Sam and Jody at the table in the rec room, swapping good luck traditions. They’d compiled ideas from lots of residents on how to bring good luck to the Township in the New Year. Everyone figured they needed all the help they could get.

Kefilwe had tucked herself into a corner with a book, enjoying their conversation without participating. She knew not everyone was comfortable with her presence in Abel; she understood it. She’d stepped into the place of the very well-loved Dr. Myers. People were hurting, especially her partner and best friend. She didn’t blame them for the frosty reception.

“I asked Nadia what they do in Scotland,” Sam said, “She said they do this thing called first footing, which refers to the first person to visit you after the new year, and whoever they are and what they bring affects your luck.”

“Well that’s a good one,” Paula said.

Jody agreed. “We could bring people little gifts for luck!”

“Traditionally,” Sam continued, “The first footer is a tall, dark-haired, good-looking young man too.”

“Hm. Where are we going to find one of those?” Five asked.

“Oh, you’re hilarious,” Sam deadpanned. Five stuck her tongue out at him.

“I know Lunar New Year isn’t for a few weeks, but we could borrow some of those traditions too,” Sam said.

Five nodded. “Definitely. Anything and everything to give us a leg up. We need it.”

“We usually decorate with scarlet fabric to ward off Nian. He’s a lion-ish monster who’s afraid of the color red.

“Scaring off monsters is a good idea.”

“Traditionally you’d set off fireworks and bang on drums to scare him with the noise too.”

Five shook her head. “Janine will never agree to anything like that.”

“Yeah, probably not. Oh! We could make dumplings. We still have some of the stuff we picked up on Halloween.”

“Cameo said she was in Thailand for the Songkran Festival once, and they pour water on their friends to wash away bad luck,” Jody said. “Although she said not to tell Kytan and Yang that. I think she’s planning to douse them at midnight.”

“We could also borrow some Jewish traditions,” Paula offered. “Although we traditionally serve a fish head for the symbolism. Let’s maybe stick with the dumplings for food.”

“Oh! And Mandarin oranges. Do we have any of those?” Sam asked.

“Maybe in cans?”

“In Nigeria, people eat lentils for good fortune,” Kefilwe put in. Everyone turned to look at her. “That’s probably something we’d have on hand.”

Sam and Paula exchanged a look. Five ignored them. “Oh, probably, that’s a good idea. In some parts of the U.S. it’s black eyed peas. Either way, staple foods."

“You’ve done a lot of traveling, right Dr. Lobatse?” Jody asked. “I bet you’ve picked up a lot of traditions.”

“Oh, yes,” she replied, pulling a chair over. Jody happily made room. Sam and Paula exchanged another look. Five, who was sitting between, elbowed them both. “My work’s taken me all over the world. In Brazil, they wear white. In other parts of Latin America, different colored underwear brings different things. Yellow for luck, red for love, white for peace, that sort of thing. In some parts of South Africa, they throw unused goods out the window to signal to the universe that you’re letting go of the past and ready for the future.”

Paula laughed derisively. “Yeah, Janine won’t go for that one either.”

Five gave her a look. “What about food?”

“ _I_ thought we were making dumplings,” Sam muttered.

“We can have more than one thing, Sam.”

“Oh, there are lots of food traditions that won’t spoil your dinner, Samuel,” Kefilwe continued amiably. “In Spain, you eat 12 grapes at midnight, one for each chime of the clock, and if you finish them in time you get 12 wishes granted. In the Philippines, you gather 12 round fruits for the same reason. And lots of places do fish for dinner, just like Dr. Cohen said.”

Jody wrote some of her ideas down. Paula muttered something.

“Although, if you’re trying to really chase away the last year, you should burn something.”

The quartet looked at her. “Did you say burn something?” Paula asked.

“Oh yes! I was in Ecuador one year, and they celebrate _Los A_ _ños Viejos,_ which means the old years, to destroy your past demons. Ecuadorians will create dolls, like scarecrows, to represent their sins or sinister people, and light them on fire at midnight to destroy the old year and invite good spirits for the new.”

“Huh,” Sam said thoughtfully. “That…that’s actually a good idea.”

“It’s a really good idea, Dr. Lobatse,” Jody said. “I mean, it’s brilliant!” Kefilwe beamed.

“Seriously, after this year? That’d be so cathartic for everyone,” Five agreed. “I mean, I don’t know if we can make a scarecrow, but maybe everyone could write something they want to leave behind on a piece of paper and wrap it in fabric or something, then burn it at midnight.”

“Hang on,” Paula interrupted, “You really think Janine would agree to let everyone set things on fire?”

“No, I think she’d agree to a controlled burn in our designated trash burn site, especially if I present it as something that will help morale,” Five countered. “That woman has her own shit to burn, believe me.”

“Ok, perfect. I’m in,” Jody said. “Five, you talk to Janine, I’ll get the word out, Sam and Paula can handle the food, and everyone can gather at the burn site before midnight. I think we’ve got a really good celebration here.”

“Well, I’m glad I could help,” Kefilwe said. “I’m sure you all need some fun. I can’t imagine how hard these past few months have been.”

“No, you can’t,” Paula snapped. Kefilwe let it roll off her. She had nothing but empathy for the woman. Paula and Sam left the room without addressing her again.

Five sighed. “I’m sorry about them. They’re hurting, and…”

Kefilwe waved off her explanation. “It’s alright, really. I understand. I’m just happy that this might help people.”

And she was. Kefilwe didn’t know if Abel was her home for now or for longer, or if Dr. Myers would want support after she’d returned, or if the Township would ever see her as one of their own, but it didn’t matter. All her life, her purpose had been to help people. If she could do that, even a little, then she was content.


	8. 'Twas the Night Before Abelmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers through season 2. 
> 
> A rewrite of "Twas the Night Before Christmas" for the events of Chapter 1.

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the town,

Not a creature was stirring, not a runner could be found.

The stockings were hung through the dorms great and small,

Though no one was sure who’d be filling them all.

The residents, nestled, were almost all sleeping,

Just had no idea who was still out, creeping.

Yes, Sam in his hoodie, and Five, fleet of foot,

Had just recruited Paula for their Christmassy plot.

They crept through the town, they exhibited stealth,

(All except Sam, who had just tripped himself).

The women did shush him, they froze in their spot,

Just hoping they hadn’t awoken some tot.

The lampposts above bathed the trio in light,

They had to be careful to stay out of sight.

When then in a window a face did appear,

Sweet little Molly, hoping for reindeer.

She went back to bed, vanishing just as quick,

And they went on their journey, three pretenders St. Nick.

The small Runners’ Quarters, that was their first stop.

They left gifts for all runners, dropped them off with a plop.

For Jody, for Owen, for Kytan and Yang,

The runners were done; the door closed with a bang.

The trio, they flinched; it was Sam’s fault again.

No time to lose; they dashed away then.

The rest of the dorms didn’t cause more concern;

Sam shouldn’t close doors, the trio had learned.

All the more quietly they went to work,

The three were determined; no one did shirk.

Toys for the children, stuffed teddies for some,

Anything that could bring moments of fun.

The gifts for the grown-ups were slightly pragmatic,

Although they were sure to be just as ecstatic.

The job almost finished, nearly time for bed,

The trio had only one challenge ahead.

The most likely place for suspicion to rouse:

Getting the last gift inside the farmhouse.

This ultimate trial was sure to be tricky,

And for it to work, they would have to move quickly.

Sam started in through the door in the rear,

Five quickly stopped him: “Nope, you’re staying here.

For this is a job needing absolute quiet,

And if Janine catches us, she’ll start a riot.”

Sam, he didn’t argue; his partner was right.

It was better if he waited out in the night.

Five returned as quickly as she had left,

Their bags were now empty, devoid of their heft.

The trio had done it, their plan a success!

And when morning broke, all would feel blessed.

The associates parted ways in the small quad,

Regarding each other with a wink and a nod.

Sam and Five off to bed, Paula needed a minute

To dream of this holiday with Maxine in it.

But Sam, his heart bursting with festive teamwork,

Just couldn’t stay quiet; it was his surest quirk.

Arms outstretched wide, voice raised foolishly up,

“HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL!”

“Oh my god, Sam, shut up!”


	9. Sara: Christmas Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers through the end of season 2.
> 
> Sara Smith visits a friend to reminisce about Christmas Past.

Janine was bent over her desk, carefully completing paperwork. Inventory, requisition forms, something Sam had filled out that approximated a run report, whatever needed doing. Whatever kept her busy.

“Working on Christmas Eve. Good to see you haven’t changed.”

Sara Smith leaned against a bookshelf, watching her fastidious friend. She could almost hear the festive revelry outside, residents finding ways to celebrate after a terrible year. The Commander of Abel Township needed celebration as much as anyone, yet here she sat. The work could’ve waited; it often could. Janine hid behind her papers more often than not, using it to shield herself from the people around her.

A spiky loner; that’s how she had always described Janine. Brilliant, sure, an excellent leader, of course, and one of the best people Sara had ever met. But her sociability left something to be desired.

“I don’t supposed you’re just trying to get this done so you can spend the rest of the night with friends, are you? No, of course not.”

Janine couldn’t hear her. She doubted any of them could, but that was alright. She was no Jacob Marley; these visitations were for her, not them.

“You remember that first Christmas at Abel, Janine? Although I suppose it was New Year’s Eve before things really got bad. About a dozen people sheltered in the basement, safe behind the stone walls, while you and I were up in the attic with rifles, picking off that horde through a window. We had the area outside the farmhouse cleared within an hour; we barely missed a shot. You and I were always a good team.”

She took a seat opposite the desk.

“You’ll need to find a new team now, with me gone. Maybe with more than one person on it this time. And don’t say that Abel _is_ a team, that all of you have to work together. That’s a cop out and you know it. I’m talking about _your_ team, the people who are here for _you,_ not Abel. Plenty of people would be in your corner if you’d let them.

“You won’t make it on your own, Janine. No one does anymore. I hope you know that.”

Janine blew a lock of hair out of her eyes. It was one of her most human traits, one of the few habits that broke through her carefully curated exterior. Whenever she did that, it was easier to see the person underneath instead of the meticulous commander.

“You’re still blaming yourself for what happened, aren’t you? That’s where those circles under your eyes came from. You’re not sleeping. Probably not eating either.”

Sara sighed. “Ah, Janine. You’ve always had a habit of hanging on to things, and it does not serve you at all. But none of this was your fault. I know it doesn’t do any good to tell you that, but it’s the truth. The Major and I made our choices; we sacrificed ourselves so that Abel might live. The mission will go on without us because you’re here to keep things running. Neither of us ever doubted that.”

Janine stretched, massaging a knot in the back of her neck.

“And Runner Three…well he was always kind of an idiot, wasn’t he? But you cared about him. Oh, you’ll deny it until the end of time, say you were just using him, and that’s fine if that’s what gets you through the hurt. But you and I know it’s not the truth.

“Simon betrayed Abel, betrayed you, because something was wrong with him, not you. You’re not less for not seeing it. He had us all fooled, after all. He made his choices. And you’ll have to make yours too. Don’t let this harden you, any of it. Don’t shut love and affection and friendship out of your life. I know what it’s like to make that mistake. I don’t want to see it happen to you.”

She stood up. “I have to go now. I wish I could stay longer. I have other stops to make, but I wanted to see you first. I’m proud of you, Janine. I had to make sure I said that.”

Sara closed the door behind her before starting into the night.


	10. Sara: Christmas Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers through the end of season 2.
> 
> Sara observes the festivities of Christmas Present.

As it happened, Sara really could hear the revelry from Janine’s office, so loud was the music emanating from the runners’ quarters. It was a merry mixture of Christmas carols and trap music. Nothing loud enough to draw zoms, of course, but probably enough that the other residents would be complaining soon. She hoped the others could show them a little patience; if runners didn’t get the chance to blow off steam every now and again, it wound up coming out in other ways, like fist fights over supplies and shouting matches over tiny infractions like snoring.

Sara stood in the doorway watching the merriment, heart full to bursting. These people, maddening as they could be, had been a family of sorts at the end of her life. The last she’d seen most of them, New Canton soldiers had been dragging her through Abel. Their eyes had been fixed on her in a mixture of heartbreak and rage. She needed to see them like this, full of joy.

They’d transformed their common area into something resembling a technicolor winter wonderland. Strings of lights adorned the walls, though of course there wasn’t power for something inessential like that. They’d compensated with what Sara assumed was any and every holiday decoration they’d ever brought back from supply runs. A tree was propped haphazardly in a bucket-turned-tree stand. It was adorned with red and green balls, strings of popcorn, snowflakes cut out of coffee filters, and various other handmade baubles. The entire thing was wrapped in disconcertingly bright green tinsel. Surely Sam had something to do with that.

The operator was in the corner talking animatedly to Paula, who looked far away. That poor woman. At least Sara had gotten to make her own choices. Paula had no idea what she was getting herself into when she went to work for Van Ark. And just when she’d gotten out, she’d lost the woman she loved all over again. She’d done Sara the last human kindness of her life; she owed her a debt that couldn’t ever be repaid.

Four was passing out various knit gifts, each complementing their recipients perfectly. Thirteen was arguing with Jack and Eugene about who got to handle the music while One and Eleven not-so-subtly tried to spike the punch. Sara wished she could tell them they were the third to do that. No doubt they’d need a supply run for aspirin after everyone cleaned out the hospital tomorrow morning.

Most of the others were crowding the buffet, which held dishes of dubious quality. Decent looking Christmas cookies, bags of snacks, some kind of meat and potatoes, and something that was definitely one of Sam’s mystery tin specials. Sara shook her head. She never understood why anyone let that boy anywhere near the kitchens.

Full as the room was, the absence of Three and Seven was glaring, and not just because they were big men. Simon’s personality could fill a room all on his own. Evan was a fixture in Abel from the very beginning. She had yet to lay eyes on Five either. She wasn’t with Sam, which was unusual. Sara hoped she wasn’t emulating Janine and working through the holiday. Those two could be too similar for their own good.

Sara finally spotted her, hanging back from the buffet table, waiting to make sure the rest of the runners had a plate before she made her own.

“That’s my Five,” Sara said. “Always taking care of everyone else first.”

She scanned the room, eyes landing on the rascals by the punchbowl. “Yang! Kytan!” The two turned, kids caught in the cookie jar. “I think that’s enough, guys.”

They grinned sheepishly, Yang pocketing the flask. “Sorry, Five!”

Jody caught Five’s gaze across the room and rolled her eyes. Five smiled and shook her head.

Losing three runners had shifted the power dynamics within the corps; it rested with Five now. That pleased Sara immensely. Leadership suited her; she naturally commanded respect by virtue of who she was, and clearly the others could see that too. Besides, they trusted her. They’d ask her to be Head of Runners soon enough; Sara just hoped the girl had enough sense to accept.

Satisfied everyone else had eaten, Five grabbed two plates. One she loaded up for herself, dropping that off with Sam. Sara chuckled. “Oh, Five, you know better than that. He’ll have eaten half the plate by the time you get back.” She’d probably accounted for that in calculating portions.

She wrapped the second plate in foil. “I’ll be right back, ok?” Paula nodded, Sam told her to hurry back. Five bundled herself in Sam’s jacket before leaving with the second plate. Sara followed her.

She smiled as she saw where the runner was headed. “That’s for Janine, isn’t it? You know as well as I do she’s not taking care of herself.” Five shivered, even through the jacket.

Sara’s hunch was right. Five let herself into the farmhouse. “Janine, I’m leaving you food in the living room!” she called. “Eat it, or, you know…I’ll get all of the doctors together to yell at you.”

Sara smiled again. “You’re a good egg, Five, you know that?” Five turned back towards Janine’s office, thinking the other woman had said something. She left when she realized it was her imagination. Five took advantage of being hidden in the shadow of the farmhouse. She closed her eyes and leaned on the stone wall, savoring the quiet moment.

“I’m sure you’re getting fewer and fewer of those these days,” Sara said. “They’re all looking to you now, I can tell. And that’s scary. I know it is. It’s not necessarily fair that this is going to get put on you; I know you’ve got your own demons. But you can handle it, Five. If you’re threatening Janine into eating you’re more than equipped to handle those idiots back in the runners’ quarters. I wanted to visit you tonight to see how you are, but I already knew you’d be just fine. I hope you know that too.”

Five opened her eyes, turning her head to look right at Sara. It was clear from her expression that she couldn’t see her, but this time, Sara was almost certain she had heard her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas trap music is a very real thing. It’s what my distillery plays every year at our employee holiday party during the cocktail competition (which I won in 2019). I missed it very much this year, but I guess no party means I get to retain my title for a second year?


	11. Sara: Christmas Yet to Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers through the end of season 3/a single plot point of season 5.
> 
> Sara visits an old friend in a time of need to look to what's Yet to Come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for minor suicidal ideation, mentions of emotional abuse, mild religious trauma - this chapter has some Bible-focus, in case anyone finds that upsetting (I'm ex-vangelical myself, so I get it).

All Simon knew was cold.

He couldn’t tell you where he was or what was happening anymore, but he knew that it was cold. The crushing agony from the Comansys Tower had faded. He was sort of weightless now. That didn’t mean he had any control over his body – or whatever was left of it.

“Jesus, Three. It’s not like you to laze about.”

That voice…he knew that voice. But how could anyone else be here?

“Oh, open your goddamn eyes already. You think I’m enjoying watching you lay here like a bump on a log?”

Simon blinked, finding a face behind the dust and smoke. She was unchanged from the last time he saw her, however long ago that was. Same knowing blue eyes, same knot of brown hair, same look on her face that said she could save you as soon as destroy you.

“Runner Eight?”

“In the flesh. Well, not the flesh, but you get the idea.”

He squinted at her. “But you’re…wait, does that mean I’m…” He hated how hopeful he sounded.

Eight shook her head. “You’re not dead, Three.”

He laughed, a short bark. “Of course I’m not. The one person in this world who deserves death most, and it just won’t come.” He sighed, sitting up. “So if we’re not just roommates in purgatory, what is this?”

“Beats me. I’m not always in charge of when or how I get to appear. Best I’ve figured I’m supposed to help you with something.”

“So you’re a ghost then?”

“Seems that way.”

“I thought we Catholics were skeptical of that sort of thing.”

“Joke all you want, Three, but here I stand.”

Simon didn’t have a response to that. He couldn’t exactly argue with her right in front of him, but he also didn’t want to know what it would do to his mind to argue with a ghost."

“Speaking of Catholic, you know your Bible decently, don’t you, Three? That gran of yours made sure of it if I’m remembering correctly?”

“She did, and thank you so much for rubbing salt in the wound as I’m dying.”

That same disapproving look. “You’re not dying, Three.”

He looked away from her face. “What if I want to be? It’s what I deserve. This is my penance, remember?”

Sara sighed and sat down next to him. “Three, in your Bible studies, you came across the story of your namesake, right?”

“Which one?” he asked. She raised her eyebrows. “Right. Not Simon the Zealot, surely.”

“Surely not. The other one. The ordinary fisherman who went on to great things.”

“After he was called to discipleship. Is this your way of telling me you’re the Messiah, Eight?”

“It’s not a perfect comparison. But _that_ Simon, he left his old self behind to be made anew. And though plagued with moments of weakness and doubts, who could even be said to have betrayed those closest to him? He went on to be a leader, a pillar in the church. Cephas. The rock.”

Ever-cryptic Eight. Even in death. “The hell’s your point?”

“My point, _Simon_ , is that you know damn well that you are most certainly not dying. And I know you don’t really want to go on living, but like it or not, that’s exactly what you’re going to do. You’re going to have to ask yourself, ordinary Simon, what happens now? Where do you go from here?”

“Far, far away I think. Somewhere I can’t hurt anyone else.”

“Hm.” Eight studied him. “And what about yourself?”

“What about myself?”

“What happens to your hurt?”

He sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Christ, Eight, can you just say what you mean, dammit? I’ve had a hard enough day without you talking in riddles.”

She considered this. “Did you enjoy the holidays when you were growing up, Three?”

If he hadn’t been suspended somewhere in time at the moment, he would’ve felt a headache coming on. “God dammit, Eight! That’s literally the opposite of what I asked you to do.”

“Well?”

“No! No I did not enjoy the holidays! I did not enjoy the coldness of the weather or of my grandmother or the countless excuses she had to drag me to more church. If I’m honest, I hated the holidays. Happy now?”

“Then you must’ve dreamt of your perfect Christmas, right?”

“Of course I did, I was a child.”

“Go on.”

“Oh, really, Eight, you want me to dig up my childhood trauma for you? Tell you about all the years I went without presents, the hours I spent in church being told I was a sinner, the even longer hours at home being told I was worthless?”

Eight shook her head. “No, that won’t do you any good. I want you to tell me what would’ve made it better.”

Simon erupted. “A family, dammit! People to love, who loved me, a place to belong, it…it wasn’t just what I wanted at Christmas. It’s just what I wanted. Period.”

This satisfied her. “You had that at Abel, you know.”

“Yes, and I threw it all away because I’m too bloody selfish. I lost everything for vanity. You know, I’ve changed my mind, this isn’t purgatory, it’s hell, and you’re here to inflict my punishment, torment me with my sins, tell me how fucking stupid and useless I am, is that it?”

“Not at all.” He looked back to her face, soft now. “I’m here to show you what you could have. What’s waiting for you if you make your way back.”

Laughter overtook the tears in his eyes. “How could I possibly go back?”

“Tell me, Three, did the people you left at the tower, Five and Dr. Myers and Janine, did they seem like they were glad to be rid of you, like they were still carrying a grudge? Or did they seem like they knew the sacrifice you were making and wished there were another way? Like they’ll go home and mourn you and long to have their friend back?"

More quietly this time: “How could I possibly go back?”

“How could the man who thrice denied Jesus?”

He started to respond, but the argument died on his lips.

Eight smiled. “Do you see what I’m getting at now?”

He closed his eyes. He was so, so tired. “I think maybe I do.”

She stood up. “Good. Then you know what you have to do. Figure it out, Simon Peter. Figure out who you’re going to be. They’ll be waiting when you do.”


	12. Janine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers through season 6.
> 
> And on the 12th day, Abel got Janine back, and Janine got more than she expected.

Janine should’ve known the people closest to her were up to no good.

Ever since her return, no one at all had breathed a word about the holidays; it was as if no one had remembered the time of year. Everything was very professional, very mission-driven, not even a single string of lights could be found anywhere. Still, based on other years, she should’ve known it was a trap.

She had to hand it to them, they’d pulled off a very merry surprise without her getting wise to their plans.

This morning, Tom had lured her out of the house under the pretense of having her evaluate how his field capabilities had improved during her absence. In that time, the doctors had decked quite literally every hall of the farmhouse. Jody and Peter had put together a simple but wonderful meal in the kitchen. Five had reworked the runner schedule so that all pressing tasks were taken care of well in advance of Christmas Day; Sam had even done all of his paperwork properly (she suspected Five had something to do with this). There were guards on the gates keeping watch, and Jody kept her radio on in case of trouble. Everything was sorted so well that Janine had no excuse not to take the evening off.

Loathe as she was to admit it, a night off was exactly what she needed. It had been a whirlwind since she’d returned. Between Sigrid’s plans lurking around every corner, the elusive baby factory, and Five’s ever-present trouble with Moonchild, she’d been pulled in dozens of directions and had very little time to enjoy being home or see the people she’d missed so much.

They were all gathered tonight, the aforementioned plotters (and Baby Sara, who’d grown so much in the past year Janine hadn’t recognized her at first) along with King Jamie and Mr. Sissay, a rare reprieve from duty and heartache. In the beautifully decorated living room, all gathered around the fire, it could’ve been any other Christmas night, apocalypse or no apocalypse. It had been a beautiful evening.

However, it ended with a gift exchange so chaotic it could only have been orchestrated by Mr. Yao.

“You can’t draw siblings, partners, people your partner had a baby with, or their partners,” he’d apparently told everyone.

The rules mitigating Abel’s complex family structures had been hard to follow. When they’d drawn their recipients three weeks ago, they’d had to redo it five times before they were following all of Sam’s rules. Nonetheless, chaos ensued the night of the actual exchange. It didn’t help that everyone in the room was half drunk, Janine included. So far, Peter’s name had been drawn twice, Jamie had drawn himself, and it was starting to look as though no one at all had drawn Janine (which was alright with her; it wasn’t as if she’d drawn a name). The second mishap had led to a rather spirited debate between Sam and Jamie.

“Uh uh, mate, nowhere in your long list of rules did it say I couldn’t draw my own name. I’ve got myself a very nice pair of slippers, and I am happy with them.”

“But…it’s an unspoken rule!” the operator argued. “What fun is getting yourself a present?”

“Plenty fun, just ask my aching feet!”

“Seriously, Sam,” Jody cut in with a laugh, “Are you really going to tell the King of England he can’t get himself a Christmas gift?”

“But he…I mean…” Sam sighed. “Fine, fine, if Your Majesty can bear to besmirch the sacred traditions of secret gift exchanges then I guess we’ll all just have to live with the dishonor,” he grumbled.

Paula shook her head, laughing, “God, you are so dramatic at the holidays.”

“Oh, shut up. Five, open yours, I guess. Since we can’t go in order anymore…”

Eager to get things back on track, Five opened her bag, finding a bottle of whiskey inside.

“Holy shit,” she said, examining the label. “This is American, straight Kentucky bourbon. It’s my favorite. Who would even know where to find…” She looked up. “Steve, you son of a bitch.”

“Guilty as charged, love.”

When the last gift had been opened (Maxine to Tom), Janine’s suspicions proved correct; her name hadn’t been in the exchange.

“Well,” she said, “That was lovely, everyone.”

“Uhhh, we’re not done, Janine,” Five replied.

Sam ducked into the side room Five used as her Head of Runners office and emerged with two parcels of identical shape and size, one wrapped in red, one in green.

“Come on, you didn’t think we’d do all of this and not get you a present, did you?” Sam asked.

“Well, no, but…I wasn’t here when you drew names, which means I don’t have anything for anyone, so it follows that I wouldn’t get anything either…”

“Janine, you came home to us,” Jody said. “That’s gift enough.”

Sam handed her the gifts. “Ok, start with…” He looked to Five, who nodded to the red. “Right, the red one. Start with the red one.”

Inside, Janine found a framed chart. When she looked at it more closely, she realized it was the original map of her family’s land. Her breath caught in her throat. “Where did you find this?”

“I found it in the attic,” Tom replied. “You follow a pretty predictable organizational structure, Jane. It wasn’t hard to locate.”

She traced her fingers over the glass. “I’ve been meaning to frame this for years.”

“Now open the other one,” Five said.

Janine tore off the paper. This time, it was a framed, aerial shot of present-day Abel. Tears sprang to her eyes, unbidden. “Oh…this is…how did you…”

“Turn it over,” Five urged.

On the back of the frame were notes and signatures in a myriad of colors. “Is this…is this everyone in Abel?”

“It is!” Maxine said. “Took a long time, too. We routed most of it through the hospital so you wouldn’t notice. And we had to start telling people to keep it short; everyone’s got a lot of things to say to you.”

She was stunned. “How did you even do this?”

Five answered, “With a drone. Someone over at New Canton developed it for us. Apparently one of those niche amenities they invested in back at the beginning was a darkroom.”

Janine pored over the photograph; it was perfect. The sprawl of Abel, with her farmhouse in the middle, not a zombie in sight. The entire runner corps must’ve been running a lure and distract to keep things that clear. It was a peaceful, pastoral scene. It was home.

She looked up at her friends, her little found family, through tears. “This is beautiful.” Her eyes landed on Five. “Thank you.”

The runner smiled. “Don’t thank me. It was Peter’s idea.”

\- - - - - - -

Try as she did to argue, no one would let Janine help with cleanup. Instead, she finished her wine and read the literally hundreds of notes written to her by Abel residents. Their sentiments were heartful and genuine. It truly was one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for her.

Peter was the last to leave, passing where she sat on the couch, photo in her lap.

“Mr. Lynne,” she called. He turned. “Thank you for this. It may very well be the best gift I have ever received.”

He shook his head modestly, “Oh, Five gave me too much credit. It really took all of us to pull off.”

“But it was your idea. You knew what it would mean to me.”

He shrugged, smiling sheepishly. “Well, I, uh…I guess I still know you is all. Anyway…I should really be going.”

“No,” she said, reaching out a hand to stop him. “Stay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Janine De Luca deserves every happiness in the world, and if S2S won't give it to her, I WILL.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who followed along these past 12 days, and to everyone reading later once they've finished the relevant seasons (hi, Cass!). This was so much fun to write, and I appreciate you all.


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